Don't be sorry for just being who you are. I was the stupid one for thinking most anyone here would be different.

[The front of his shirt is a mess now. But he just fiddles with the buttons, straightening himself up the best he can and crossing the room for the discarded chocolate box.]

You've got happiness somewhere in this town, right? That should be what you treasure. It's nice. But your thinking isn't meant for me. And if you don't know why... I can't help you.